


The Birthday Dinner

by FoxRafer



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-12
Updated: 2009-11-12
Packaged: 2017-10-29 13:02:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/320176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoxRafer/pseuds/FoxRafer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for Craig Parker's Birthday Celebration at <a href="http://craiguncensored.livejournal.com/"><b>craiguncensored</b></a>. In my world, Craig uses a friend's apartment when in Wellington and he lives full time in Auckland. I'm making everything else up so why not this.</p>
    </blockquote>





	The Birthday Dinner

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Craig Parker's Birthday Celebration at [**craiguncensored**](http://craiguncensored.livejournal.com/). In my world, Craig uses a friend's apartment when in Wellington and he lives full time in Auckland. I'm making everything else up so why not this.

Craig hitched his bag further onto his shoulder and once more fumbled with the lock to his friend's flat. His frustration growing, he tried to keep the grumbling to a minimum lest the neighbors start paying attention and call the police to report an attempted break in. "Definitely not an auspicious start," he mumbled, as the key finally turned and he pushed his way into the apartment.

Back in Wellington to reshoot a few scenes from Fellowship, the timing was perfect for his work schedule but not so ideal for him personally. Most days Craig appreciated the size of his role in Lord of the Rings. It gave him the freedom to work on other projects yet still be a part of this once-in-a-lifetime production. But other times he regretted not being here more often, even if just to hang out behind camera. The cast and crew had fused together into one large family, at times dysfunctional but always supportive. And other than Helm's Deep he'd missed out on much of that connection, something he was feeling all too strongly tonight.

Craig released an exaggerated heavy sigh then lightly knocked his fist against his temple. "Christ, snap out of it, Parker," he chastised himself, weary of this mood he found himself in. After all, it wasn't as if he was the unwelcome stepson, ostracized and alone. He'd made several good friends during the shoot. Viggo in particular had regularly been in touch, keeping him up to date on the latest news often through amusing stream of consciousness rambles. And Dave and Jed, despite their mocking of his Haldir wig. And of course there was Billy. He and Craig had barely worked together during the Lothlorien scenes but they'd struck up a steady friendship ever since. It was hard to explain or even remember how it happened, but although very different in many ways the two had an easy rapport that soon developed into one of Craig's most valued relationships.

But tonight he felt a particular disconnection from filming. Principal photography was winding down and everyone was running around in a state of not quite organized chaos. Everyone but him. Even when he started working tomorrow his days would not be particularly hectic, and he couldn't believe he was regretting missing out on the mayhem. Of course, it didn't help that today was his birthday, his thirtieth no less, and he acutely felt the lack of attention from friends and co-workers and the emptiness of the flat.

Still standing just inside the door, he wondered if having a solo birthday dinner of takeout and beer would be more pathetic than going through his address book and guilting someone to take him out. As his mind settled on option number two, someone knocked and Craig nearly jumped out of his skin. He slid his bag to the floor then opened the door to find a messenger carrying a plain brown box.

"Mr. Craig Parker?"

"Yes."

"I have a package for you, sir. If you could just sign here."

Craig hesitated for a moment, trying to figure out who other than the owner of the flat knew where he was. Stonestreet did, of course, but this wasn't a set of script revisions. _Maybe they sent over a welcome package, or a little something for my birthday_ , he mused. He realized his pause had now stretched into the awkward stage and smiled apologetically before signing the form and taking the parcel. He thanked the man and closed the door, the whole time studying the box. It was completely nondescript with no clues as to the sender. Moving into the kitchen he found a pair of scissors then sliced through the packing tape.

He didn't need any help figuring out what was in the paper bag on the side, the delicious aromas telling him and his stomach all they needed. It didn't matter if he was right about which entree was inside, any meal from his favorite Indian restaurant would more than satisfy. If he hadn't been so curious about the rest of the package, he would have stopped to eat it on the spot but instead set it to one side and continued the discoveries.

A folded index card had slid to the bottom of the box, and he smiled as he opened it and read the scrawled note:

  
_Welcome back to Wellington and Happy Birthday!  
Wish I could drag you out to celebrate. Have a drink on me.  
Bill_   


There was a bag of candles, "thirty exactly" penned on a post-it stuck on top; a small bakery box with an oversized chocolate-covered donut inside; a not so small and not so cheap bottle of single malt whisky; and at the very bottom a couple of mix CDs that a quick glance revealed a lot of bands he'd never heard of but suspected he'd like knowing Billy's taste in music.

Craig stood for a moment slightly overawed. In a matter of moments he'd gone from feeling a little sorry for himself to being a bit misty at the thought and time behind this unexpected surprise. His stomach growled, a rolling, impatient noise, and he laughed, shaking himself from his thoughts. He grabbed the bag of takeout, rooted around for a fork and a glass for the whisky, then headed into the living room to begin his birthday dinner.

# # #

"Craig!"

He'd only taken a couple of steps into the catering tent before Viggo had wrapped him in a warm hug.

"It's great to see you. How're you doing?"

"I'm good, really good. Yourself?"

"Not too bad. When did you get in?"

"Last night."

"It's your birthday soon, isn't it?"

"It was yesterday actually."

"Oh shit man, I'm sorry."

"No worries, no worries."

"We should do something tonight, maybe go out to dinner."

"I'd like that. I have to warn you it'll have a lot to live up to after what Billy sent over last night. Which reminds me, have you seen him? I want to thank him for the gift."

Viggo looked a little surprised. "Billy sent you something?"

"Yeah, dinner, dessert, music and a very nice bottle of twelve-year-old whisky."

Viggo's eyebrows raised even higher. "That's ... unusual."

"Why the look?"

"What? Oh nothing. It's just I can't remember Billy giving someone a gift like that before. Are you sure nothing was rigged to explode or anything? Water in the whisky?"

"No," Craig laughed. "No booby traps."

"Huh."

Craig wondered at the confused yet thoughtful expression on Viggo's face. "Is there something you'd like to share, mate?"

Before he could get an answer, a small gang of the stunt crew had swarmed around them, knocking out whatever was on Viggo's mind with a couple of head butts. The group settled down at one of the tables and proceeded to welcome Craig back into the Rings fold in their unique and slightly crude way, and Craig momentarily forgot about Viggo's reaction to Billy's gift.

# # #

For three days Craig hadn't been able to find Billy. He didn't answer his phone, he was never home and somehow when Craig expected him to be in hair or makeup he wasn't there. He was getting the distinct impression that Billy didn't want to be found, which seemed strange and more than a little out of character. He supposed he could have simply left a message for him, but just saying thank you on an answering machine wouldn't have felt right. Especially now that he suspected the package may not have been merely a friendly gesture on a milestone birthday.

Despite feeling slightly sorry for himself when he arrived, deep down he hadn't expected anyone involved with Rings to remember his birthday. His local mates, sure. But the film folks? It was crunchtime and he hadn't been around since the summer. He was lucky they even remembered his name. So what did it mean that Billy not only remembered, but that he'd planned something special? It hadn't been a "wake up in the morning and throw something together" kind of gift. And now that he thought about it, it was far from inexpensive. The whisky itself had to be more than anything he would have normally expected.

Whether Craig's luck improved or Billy's ran out, he finally caught up with him on a cloudy evening just two days before Craig's final day of filming. To Craig, Billy always looked even smaller after he'd just been de-hobbited. Something about his slicked back wet hair and the slightly awkward way he walked for a minute after having the feet removed. But on catching his eye, Craig swore Billy seemed to shrink even more. An uncomfortable vulnerability emanated from him and Craig could see the minute Billy pulled his actor's cloak over his shoulders and put on what Craig now believed was a mask of simple friendship. Craig hoped the mask covered something far deeper, and as he walked over was determined to ferret it out.

"You're a hard man to find."

"Yeah, I know, it's been wild lately."

 _The lie that isn't a lie_ , Craig thought as they turned to walk to the car park. They ambled through random bits of conversation, Craig more focused than ever on every nuance and subtle detail of Billy's manner. The slight tension in his voice, eyes never quite meeting his, all the while not one question about the birthday package. And that expression. Craig struggled to put it into words. But as they reached Billy's car it finally hit him: it was the look of someone afraid he'd revealed more than he may have intended, and Craig could physically feel the final puzzle piece slide into place.

Because now that he thought about it, it was unusual how they'd fallen together. Not that friendships weren't formed in some of the most unlikely ways. But given the limited nature of his time on the film and the lack of interaction they had on set, it wouldn't have been surprising if they'd just become good acquaintances. Instead they almost instantly connected. They talked all the time, laughed a lot. Billy wrote him frequently and they spoke on the phone at least once a week. Craig found himself often thinking about Billy, sending him a quick e-mail when he saw or read something that he thought Billy would enjoy, making notes of bands he thought Billy'd like to see perform.

Why he hadn't noticed the special nature of this relationship before this moment was a mystery even to himself. But Craig was now certain that Billy felt it too and unintentionally revealed his true heart through the time and care he took in planning Craig's birthday surprise.

"So I wanted to thank you for my birthday dinner. The music, the whisky, everything was wonderful."

Craig could see Billy stiffen slightly, the quick shift to a more guarded stance. "Well you know, turning thirty's kind of a big deal."

"Yeah, it is. But not everyone would have gone to so much trouble to make mine special."

"It was just a few things I thought you'd like." Craig saw the mask begin to slip, saw Billy starting to turn away -- trying to get away -- before he revealed too much.

"Bill." Craig laid his hand on Billy's arm before he could fully turn toward the car. He finally looked Craig in the eye and for a moment Craig was lost in the tumultuous sea of emotions he could see in their depths. Suddenly all he wanted to do was kiss Billy, pull him into his arms and never let him go.

"I think we've kind of slipped into something neither of us has wanted to think about let alone put into words."

Billy swallowed, blinked a couple of times, and Craig watched as the mask slid a little further out of place. "So what do you propose we do about that?"

"Well we don't keep pretending it doesn't exist for a start."

"In another month this all ends."

"I know that."

"And you'll be here and I'll be in Scotland." Craig could feel the sadness, see the weary frustration in Billy's eyes, and he couldn't deny they found themselves in a difficult situation. But now that he was finally looking at what was between them, he couldn't just let it go.

"You've faced tougher challenges than a little geography in your life. No, let me finish," he admonished at Billy's exasperated sigh. "Things like this are never easy, even when two people live just down the road from each other. But now that it's out there, now that we're finally seeing it, I think we owe ourselves at least one night, one real discussion, before we chuck it all to hell. Let's have dinner. Let's talk. ... Please, Bill."

Craig watched the battle, the internal struggle warring in Billy's eyes. He moved his hand down Billy's arm and slowly tugged on his fingers. Billy looked down at their hands, now loosely joined, then back into the surety and hopefulness in Craig's eyes. When a slight smile played across Billy's lips, Craig matched it with an even broader one of his own. Billy slid their hands more firmly together and squeezed, then they got in his car and headed out, hoping trust and something much deeper than friendship would carry them to destinations unknown.


End file.
